


Can't Help

by Sneakyfox55



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Healthy Male-Female friendships, Hurt/Comfort, Moving On, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Reader Needs a Hug, Self-Hatred, Self-Reflection, Sort Of, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, but the author herself has no idea where this will go, i know i'm kinda being hypocritical but still, sans is a sweetheart, seriously why can't we have non-romance between a girl and boy people, supposed to be short, thoughts of self-harm but isn't acted upon, unhealthy mindsets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23702788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sneakyfox55/pseuds/Sneakyfox55
Summary: You're in love with your best friend. And part of you wants to pursue it.The other part, well...The other part of you is tired of trying.
Relationships: Reader & Other(s), Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 26
Kudos: 100





	1. Cry Your Heart Out

**Author's Note:**

> i've been mentally exhausted, mostly because of a project i'm working on--aka my own Undertale AU lol. i'm making progress but it's taking a lot out of me and i haven't really been able to write much because of it. so this is kind of like a thing i made up to help my writer's block
> 
> i was originally going to make this two chapters long but i kind of want to make it a bit longer? just so i don't have to worry about fitting it all into two parts. it's still going to be shorter than my other Sans/Reader fics, i just don't really know how many chapters there'll be exactly (my inspiration for things obviously is randomized so i could make it even longer for all we know). i'm not quite sure where it will go after the first chapter either but it'll get a happy ending, i know that
> 
> lemme know what ya think! (and please leave comments; i'm very selfish but i love seeing your guys' thoughts, even if it's something as simple as you saying "it's good" haha, ~~i'm lonely so plz~~ )
> 
> OH AND I DO WANT TO MAKE IT CLEAR! just because this is a Reader/Sans story and technically the story alludes to "you" specifically, what i write has nothing to do with what i think of you guys personally, i'm just writing it from a perspective of how the character feels, because i kind of see Reader as their own character? so it's like your inner dialogue towards yourself but i'm writing it? anyhow i'm not making sense, my point is i do not hate you, if you're actually in a mindset like in this please don't be afraid to go get help, 
> 
> thx for readin, i love ya'll <3

You're not anything special. People only know you for your mental issues, but really, everyone has them nowadays. You don't single yourself out just because you have feelings. At least, you try not to; you know you're still selfish, even when you don't try to be. Every time you're asked the same question, over and over, you just say you're fine. 'Cause you are. There are others who have it worse, so, you try not to make a fuss. ~~Even if it really hurts. Even if you feel broken.~~

It was only a matter of time before your barrier came down, though.

There was a guy at your college, taller than you and much messier too. You didn't think much of him, as you kind of avoided everyone you saw at campus, and only conversed if they initiated it. You fell into a predicament like that when he said hi to you one morning before class.

At first, you were confused, thinking he'd been talking to the girl behind you; but you quickly remembered the girl behind you had just left to go to the bathroom, so there was a problem with that option. 

"Um," you stammered, "m-me?" Dang it, you stuttered.

"Yeah, you," he clarified casually. "Does this look correct?"

He slid a paper onto your table; you glanced down at it in confusion, reading what it says:

-2 - 4 = 2

"Uh," is all you managed. "That's... Not correct in the slightest." 

"Thought so." He pretended to hum, and your suspicions grew. "Wanna help me with it?"

"Um..."

No...?

"Sure..."

Why did you say that.

You _knew_ he was messing with you. ~~Probably to make you look like an idiot somehow.~~ And yet you agreed anyway? For some _chance_ that he might not make fun of you?

But you played along anyway.

And he didn't make fun of you.

He just laughed it off, stuck out his hand, and said, "I'm James. What's your name?"

Despite your better judgement...

"...Y/N," you told him, shaking his hand tentatively.

"Nice name!"

You turned beet-red, not expecting a compliment, of all things.

And you were more surprised to find out it was genuine, as you two became friends.

It turned out he really _was_ bad at college math (despite the joke) so more often than not you two would study together. You'd show him a couple of tricks to get him to remember what he learned, and in return you liked the company. He wasn't overbearing, just... Pleasantly outgoing. And he actually _enjoyed_ being around you; even when, one day, after getting a less than desirable grade on a test, you proved there was no reason he should.

You... Cried a lot that day.

James just let you.

He comforted you, until you calmed down. He didn't even patronize you, like most people would.

He just stayed.

In that moment, you realized life might be throwing you a bone, for once.

You realized you couldn't have a better friend than James.

You realized what it meant to be unbroken, for a little while.

And that's when everything fell to pieces.

* * *

You were there when he met her.

You were there when he asked her out.

You were his wing-man. You encouraged it.

And it tore you up inside.

You didn't _want_ it.

...But you wanted him to be happy.

And she was good for him. ~~Not like the mess you are.~~

So you forced yourself to move on. Smiled when he said things were going well between them. Smiled when he told you he loved her.

Smiled when they got engaged.

You're invited to the wedding. It's tomorrow.

He'll be happy. You'll watch how happy he'll be.

And you'll just smile.

You'll smile, and pretend to not be broken.

Even though you are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes the title is from Hercules, i watched it for the first time recently ok. good movie btw, Meg is great


	2. But It's Not Funny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next one woo

For most of the time, you find yourself hanging out around the snack table, probably looking about as anti-social as you feel. You don't feel like eating cake at all, and thinking about consuming anything other than crackers makes you sick to your stomach, for whatever reason.

At least it's nice out.

You glance over at them, sitting at the main table, laughing and giggling amongst their friends.

At least they're happy.

* * *

You... Feel ashamed of yourself.

You left early, simply because you couldn't even _face_ him, let alone strike up a conversation with him. And you knew he was worried. You _knew_ , and that's making it all worse because you don't _want_ him to worry about you. ~~You don't deserve it.~~

But what else could you do?

What could you have said? Admit how you really felt? Finally tell him, after all these years, just to get it off your chest?

...No.

No, you couldn't do that.

You can _never_ do that. Not to them.

Not to him.

At least you were still smiling when you left. At least you seemed mostly okay.

At least you're only silently crying right now, and aren't hysterical.

You stop in the middle of the sidewalk as your phone dings that familiar sound. You pull it out of your pocket, wiping at your wet cheeks.

_**James:** seriously, are you okay? _

_you didn't eat anything._ _i tried calling you and you won't pick up_

_you know you can tell me if something's bothering you, right?_

_i'm here for you_

You smile at the screen. You laugh.

And it turns into a sob.

Gods, why does he care so much.

_Why does he care._

_You can't be helped. He can't help, no one can help you._

_You're a mess._ _You can't even PRETEND to be happy for him._

_What good are you?_

You stuff your phone back into your pocket, clenching your fists until they hurt, digging your fingernails into your skin.

"Geez," you laugh, again, broken, "good thing he _does_ love _her_."

Just as the words leave your mouth, somebody gently taps your shoulder, sending you reeling as you almost jump straight into the air. Practically shaking you turn to face the person in question, and freeze upon meeting said person's gaze(?).

"is everything alright?" He has a permanent grin that seems oddly strained in the moment, but you're more focused on the fact that he has eye-sockets.

"Uh," you say dumbly. There's... Not much else you can think of to say. You've never met a monster face to face, as they've only been on the surface for a few weeks now; and embarrassingly you never thought _you'd_ ever have to talk to one. Not because you hate them, or avoid them--like most other humans--but rather, you still trying to process their existence at all.

...That still sounds bad. Ugh.

"Sorry," you mumble slowly, for some reason, like you said all those thoughts out loud. Which you didn't. Idiot.

He blinks at you, and you get the sense he might be trying to read you, somehow--which doesn't make you feel any better.

"I, um," you go on to stammer, after a pause, "I should, probably get going, I-I'm wasting your time--"

"hey, wait." You do, despite your better judgement. "can you, uh... do me a favor?"

...What?

His expression seems to morph into something sheepish, and he goes on, "i, uh, think 'm lost? i was tryin' to get back home but i don't recognize anything, so..."

"Oh. Um..." You bite your lip and stuff your hands into your pockets, noting they're still quivering quite a bit. "Where do you live?" _Oh gods, that sounds creepy..._

Instead, the skeleton(?) just hums, seemingly not bothered by you. "well, not entirely sure from this point." He waves his hand around loosely, "'s somewhere 'round here, probably, but 'm not sure."

"Oh... Well..." You feel like your whole body is shaking, and, in a split-second decision to get your mind off of it, you say, "I-I could, um, if you show me the direction you came from, m-maybe we could start there?"

"yeah, sure." He shrugs nonchalantly, turning on his heels and leading the way; you just kind of shuffle behind, not entirely sure what exactly you're doing.

Eventually, the skeleton brings you two to a restaurant around the corner, stopping in front of it. "i think 'm good from here, thanks," he tells you.

You stand awkwardly to the side, looking at the makeshift sign on the building that reads "Grillby's." You don't respond at first, because you honestly don't know what he's thanking you for. I mean, if he knows his surroundings now, he probably would have been able to find it without you tagging along. You literally just followed _him_.

"U-um, I should, get going," you stammer out, eventually. The shaking's getting worse. You need to head home.

"you hungry?"

You stop, looking at him with a strange look. "Wh-what?"

"this place's got all kindsa food," he explains casually. "i could show you."

Wh... Why?

How does he know...

Are you really that obvious?

"N-no, it's okay, I can manage," you say, a little too quickly. His grin falters, and a lump forms in your throat.

"you sure?"

 _No._ "Y-yeah."

He stares at you, obviously not convinced.

You _really_ need to go home now. You're fine. It's fine.

~~It's not.~~

~~It hurts.~~

Something like a strangled noise escapes you; another sob.

Why are you crying?

When did you start crying?

You chuckle a bit, unhinged, choking out another apology and going to wipe your eyes once more--only for a hand to stop you. You look at him, expecting to see disgust, or some kind of forced sympathy, like you usually get.

But he just looks back at you calmly, his grin much softer; maybe a bit concerned, but not patronizing.

"i'll just show ya for a few minutes. we'll be in and out, you don't have to stay long or anything." You can practically hear him add _please_ at the end, obviously wanting you to do this, for whatever reason. Maybe it really is just pity?

Either way...

You don't want to ruin anything else.

You don't want to let anyone else down.

"Alright," you say, finally, giving in. Outwardly, the tears continue to stream down your face, despite your wishes.

Inwardly, you keep laughing at yourself.


	3. God, I Want to Feel Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from the song Touch by Sleeping At Last
> 
> also sorry this update is a bit late, i've been kind of stressed with school and other stuff and haven't felt much inspiration to write anything. i can't wait for this school year to be over lol, hopefully then i'll be able to write more
> 
> so sorry if it's a bit rushed; kinda feeling writer's block still

You shuffle into the restaurant awkwardly, your only boost of confidence to move forward being the skeleton that keeps encouraging you to follow. Granted, you're... Not really sure what you're doing. At all. (I mean, this guy's a stranger, he could be planning to _poison_ you for all you know.) But, there's still the part of you that feels... Like it's something you _should_ be doing. Not for _your_ sake, but because _he_ wants you to.

Heh... That's pretty messed up, isn't it?

You're willing to listen to a total stranger over yourself.

Well... There are other people around, right? Worst comes to worst, you have some form of defense. Maybe.

And monsters are supposed to be nice anyhow, right? 

~~...Not that you deserve it, but--~~

"hey, uh, can you c'mere?"

You practically jolt back to awareness, finding the skeleton to be looking back at you, indicating you to obviously come over. He's stopped at a booth in the back of the restaurant, a bit closed off to the rest of the people here. You wonder why he'd choose a spot like that; he seems like a pretty social guy. ~~It doesn't occur to you then that he was doing that for your benefit.~~

"Um, sure," you reply, almost staggering over. Your shaking's not as bad, you make note of, but you're still off-kilter, and you have to try not to lose your balance. If he notices, he doesn't say anything.

"is this spot okay?" Why is he asking you that? Why is he looking at you like that, like your opinion is important?

"Um, y-yeah?" You don't mean for it to sound like a question, but it kinda just comes out that way; he still looks hesitant so you quickly slide into the booth, which seems to assure him of something, for some reason, because after a pause he takes the seat across from you.

"so, uh... what's your name?" he asks, eventually.

Staring at your hands, you mumble it to him. What follows is silence, and for a moment you're convinced he left within that time, but when you look up he's still sitting there.

"What's yours?" you inquire, a bit meekly. Part of you doesn't think you really have the right to ask him that.

"sans."

You... Kind of just stare back at him then. And you mutter, "Huh."

He blinks at you. "what?"

"Why are monster names so--" You quickly cut yourself off.

"weird?" he finishes for you.

 _Why did I say that,_ you silently respond with instead. Idiot. Why can't you be nice to people, for once?

But, to your confusion, he just seems amused.

"i dunno 'bout weird, but yeah. i'd say our names can be pretty sansational."

You practically freeze, taking a second to understand why he just said that.

Did... Was that a pun?

Despite yourself, you laugh a bit, mostly out of surprise; you think his smile twitches to something more genuine but you could be imagining that. "Why?" is all you can get out, because apparently you're unable to articulate.

He seems to understand what you're trying to say somehow--kudos to him--and just winks at you, saying, "why not? aren't they humerus?"

...Why does it seem like that's another pun.

Before you can ask as much, an elemental monster makes his way over to you two, carrying a pen and notepad. He's literally made out of fire, and you have to resist the urge to experimentally stick your hand towards him. Your attention is redirected back to Sans as he taps your shoulder from across the table. "he wants you to tell him your order," he explains, and you realize the elemental hasn't been speaking.

"Oh--um," you splutter out awkwardly, "could I have a, uh, sandwich?"

The fire monster seems to raise an eyebrow at you. You're about ready to die of embarrassment when Sans taps you again. "be specific."

"R-right. You--do you guys have any... Chicken?"

Wow. Way to be smooth.

But then the elemental says in a soft voice, "We have two kinds of chicken sandwiches. Which one would you like?"

You blink. You tug at the collar of your dress shirt a bit, asking meekly, "What are they?"

"We have a barbecue one and a home-style--"

"Home-style!"

Both of them stare at you, a bit surprised by your outburst. You don't have much dignity left, by this point, but you go on anyway, "Um, sorry. Home-style is fine."

The fire monster nods, then turns to Sans for his order of whatever he wants, and you have to stop yourself from slouching in the seat and burying your face in your hands; when your waiter leaves, you end up doing as much anyway in front of your companion.

"I'm really, really sorry," you whisper through your fingers.

"'s fine," he reassures you. But you don't feel any better.

A few minutes later, the other monster comes back with a tray littered with one sandwich, one burger, and one large bottle of ketchup. The ketchup confuses you a bit (why would they serve it on a food tray?) but you assume it's because you don't have any at your own table.

"thanks, grillbz," Sans says lazily to the waiter. "Grillbz," apparently, just regards him with a curt, almost annoyed(?) nod. You wonder what that's about. Before leaving again, he turns to you, and does the most peculiar thing: he offers you a small, timid smile, then turns on his heels and walks away.

...Okay then?

Your body a bit frozen, you merely watch as Sans picks up the ketchup bottle--you assume he'll just put it on his burger, but then he casually drinks out of the top of it, like it's no big deal. You continue staring at him until he looks back at you. 

"you gonna eat?" he questions. You nod.

...And wait a minute. Or two.

He asks you again if you're going to eat your sandwich.

You say yes then don't.

He stops eating his own meal, looking back at you, his expression neutral.

Your throat tightens, but you don't say anything.

"are you okay?" he asks you, quietly. You nod again. But you get the feeling he sees through it. "food'll help you," he goes on.

You want to eat. You need to.

You can't.

And you're not sure why.

Maybe it's because you don't want to feel better.

Maybe it's because you don't deserve it.

Maybe it's because there's no point.

Maybe it's because...

_Because you just shouldn't go on living like this. Without him._

_You bet he's so happy with her. So carefree, he doesn't have to spend all his time with you anymore, doesn't have to--_

_Doesn't NEED you. Doesn't need your burdens, your feelings, doesn't need to deal with them._

_There was never a chance for you, was there. Never, never, NEVER--_

You bang your hands on the table, hard. You're crying again. You can't eat, won't eat.

You forget you're not supposed to let it out like this.

You forget you're not supposed to feel.

You forget anyone is there with you.


	4. If You've Got Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i listened to the entirety of Hadestown the Musical and now it's my new favorite thing, i'm advocating for it, you should go listen to it too it's much better than this
> 
> today is also a lazy Sunday for me and this chapter is probably half-baked--i'm still sleep deprived

For a moment, all you know is nothing. You feel nothing, you see nothing. Your brain feels plugged, like you're surrounded by fog.

Like you're in a void. A void of _nothing_ , and the only thing that you can feel is your own shame.

It's only you. Only your void of shame.

...Then you feel a hand on your shoulder.

And you jolt back to reality, the fog just barely beginning to clear.

Somebody comes into view. A skeleton.

The skeleton from before...?

Sans?

"hey, hey," he seems to be assuring you, his voice gentle, "look at me, look--you see me, right?"

You do, so you nod, if a bit shakily. Relief seems to flash in his gaze.

"good. take deep breaths, okay? i'll be right back."

You nod again, doing as such and not noticing really when he disappears; you notice your hands are shaking way more than earlier, and unlike most times, you can't really get them to stop.

You... Also notice you're in a house? Somehow? Did you, black out, or...?

Panic suddenly grips you again, and you fumble for your pockets, letting out a huge breath of air when you find your phone safe and sound. Maybe a little low on battery, but fine.

Ironically enough, your phone just then chooses to receive a new message; you open it, and your stomach flips.

_**James:** y/n please pick up my calls_

**_James:_ ** _i just need to know you're ok_

Your throat tightens--but you manage to refrain from crying again, somehow. 

_**You:**_ _i'm ok, i'm really sorry_

You glance back up when you hear footsteps, meeting Sans's questioning gaze as he reenters the room.

"Just texting," you say quickly, voice too crackly for your liking; at least he doesn't seem to mind.

Wait, why'd you blurt that out, anyhow?

"uh..." He eyes your phone, hesitantly. "they... worried about you?"

Your phone vibrates again, two times in a row. You give him an apologetic look before tending to it:

_**James:** oh thank god,_

**_James:_ ** _we were so worried. have you eaten yet?_

Does trying to count?

...Probably not.

"is something wrong?"

You jolt somewhat, and turn your head to see Sans giving you a look that's both concerned and cautious. As though it just then has occurred to you what's going on, you jump to your feet, startling the both of you.

"I-I'm so sorry!" you blurt, ignoring your wobbly legs beneath you. "I, I really should go, I don't--"

You head for the door but he steps a bit into your way, "look, i didn't bring you here just for you to leave without saying anything."

...What?

"you're not okay," he goes on, his eyesockets narrowing slightly. "you need help."

"I-I can handle it--"

"no."

Your breath hitches.

"'m not trying to get you to hate me, i didn't want things to play out this way--but you've given me no choice, bud."

_Oh gods what do you do, you can't just--_

"just tell me what's wrong. i'm not going to judge you or anything."

"You're lying," you choke out, before you can stop yourself. He looks caught off-guard, so you use that to your advantage and continue shakily, "You don't know me, why should you care?"

"i..."

" _What,_ you pity me?"

"i want to help you," he counters, but you just glare back at him.

"You don't _know me,_ I mean--you're a stranger, you practically kidnapped me--how do I know you're not just--" You flap your hands around for a second, searching for some sort of boost, some sort of better better way to say this. "...Why should I listen to you?"

"because i know what it's like."

He's not meeting your gaze anymore. He stares at his feet instead--and with slight unease, you realize the lights in his eyes have suddenly burned out.

"i know what it's like, and i know you don't want help; but i have to help you somehow, i don't want you dealin' with it like i did."

_But he doesn't understand, nobody can ever understand--_

"i _do_."

Your vision blurs. Still, you refuse to let yourself break.

"i'm not goin' through exactly what you are, but i get it. and you're not alone."

_Refuse it, just refuse--_

"it's okay to not be okay," he tells you, so softly, you wouldn't have heard in any other situation.

You do hear, however. You're listening.

Your soul doesn't want it.

...But you won't refuse.

You can't.

"I just... E-everything I do, it..." You breathe in, your throat tightening up so much so that said breathing almost doesn't work. "It's... Not good enough."

_Why are you saying that?_

_Why do you bother?_

Tears spill from your eyes once more--silent, pained tears. No sobs to accompany them this time.

"I just can't do it anymore," you hiccup, letting out a little laugh afterwards, as though somehow it'd lighten the mood. "I-I'm... I'm too broken, I--"

Your words are cut off. You feel something embrace you. It takes you a second to realize what it is.

"so am i," he says.

You laugh again--probably because he stated that so matter-of-factly.

Then, after a moment's pause, you hug him back.


End file.
